


Questions and Answers

by Actual_Writing_Trashcan



Series: Colossus Hyperfixation Collection [50]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: A literal fuckton of fluff, AND I KNOW IT'S GOOD, Also I referenced every single fic in the CHC I've written thus far, I JUST NEED THE SWEET SWEET INTERNET VALIDATION, I worked so hard on this, Multi, Nudity, VALIDATE MY FUCKING PARKING PLEASEEEE, at least once, implied sex, mentions of abuse, mentions of angst, mentions of injury, so much fluff you're gonna die, so yeah I WANT COMMENTS DAMMIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-16 11:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19648450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Writing_Trashcan/pseuds/Actual_Writing_Trashcan
Summary: This is it, folks. The moment we've all been waiting for.(Set after everything in the Colossus Hyperfixation thus far.)[All warnings in the tags.]





	Questions and Answers

Your morning alarm goes off on your phone, pulling you out of your slumber and into a brand-new day.

You flail around aimlessly, eyes squeezed shut, until you manage to find the wretched device and shut the alarm off. You sigh when the bedroom you share with Piotr falls silent once more, then roll over so you can see out the balcony windows and open your eyes.

It’s a beautiful late spring morning. The sky is a flawless shade of blue. Golden light streams through the windows –Piotr must’ve opened the curtains when he got up, since he knows it helps you wake up.

Speaking of which, Piotr’s not in bed with you. Which isn’t all that unusual, admittedly. He’s a consummate morning bird, and often takes advantage of the early hours of the day to work out, draw, handle official X-Men business, or spend time grading and working on lessons. There’s been plenty of mornings where you’ve woken up to an empty bed and a text or two on your phone, reminding you to eat breakfast and letting you know where to find him if you need him.

Except there aren’t any texts on your phone this morning.

There is, however, a large white envelope on Piotr’s nightstand, addressed to you. It’s propped against the lamp, and your name is written on it in thick, bold letters –Piotr’s handwriting, from the looks of it.

And _that_ is unusual, because both of you know that your tendency to overlook basic details of your environment makes leaving physical notes a bad idea; texts, on the other hand, are safe because you always keep your phone on you.

So, the deviation from the norm, plus the way the card has obviously been staged to get your attention, means that Piotr is definitely _up to something_.

You pick up the envelope and rip it open.

Inside is a handmade card with a picture of a little forest scene on it –you’ll recognize it later as the scenery outside the sunroom in the little house Piotr stays in on his art retreats—which further confirms it as Piotr’s handiwork.

You open the card and start reading it.

_Myshka,_

_Happy Anniversary_.

You blink, then check your phone’s calendar function. _Shit, how’d that happen? It was last fall, like, two seconds ago_.

_I wanted to do something special for you today, so I hope you will not mind that I planned scavenger hunt of sorts for you. There are several envelopes like these around the house, and they will lead you to each place on journey. (I recommend you follow in order, instead of looking at random; it might be confusing otherwise.)_

You smile broadly; it’s just too damn sweet.

And completely on the nose for you, because you definitely would’ve searched the mansion at random for the cards if he hadn’t told you to go in order.

Anyway.

_Unfortunately, to make sure everything runs smooth, I will not be able to join you. I will see you at end of day, when you have finished your journey. (If there is emergency, you can always reach me on my cellphone.)_

_All of my love to you always,_

_Piotr_

You have to take a minute to process it all; it’s so unbelievably sweet and thoughtful and _Piotr_ that it makes your heart ache. _How did I get so fucking lucky?_

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, then read the line of text at the very bottom of the card.

 _Hint: Most important meal of day_.

You grin at the card, then bound out of bed, course set straight for the kitchen.

* * *

There’s a plate of food waiting for you when you arrive –chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, fruit, the works.

The kitchen’s empty, but the food’s still hot. There’s no sign of anyone else around, so whoever cooked your breakfast –most likely Piotr, considering he’s not one to make others do extra work for his own ideas—must’ve started cooking at the last possible second, then booked it when they heard you coming down the stairs.

There’s also an envelope next to your plate, addressed to you in Piotr’s handwriting.

You get settled in the dining room –also conspicuously empty—with your plate, then open the envelope.

_Myshka,_

_I think one of ways I am most blessed in our relationship is being able to eat my breakfasts with you. Whether we are talking about the future we want to have or I am taking care of you after a wild night, starting my days with you helps me put myself in proper perspective. Your positivity, resilience, and humor reminds me of what is truly important, and forces me to consider with which mindset I want to handle my day._

_I have always said breakfast is most important meal of day, but I do not think that became completely true until I could spend them with you._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You have to take a minute to collect yourself because _holy shit Piotr_. You feel caught off guard and overwhelmed and so unbelievably loved.

Before you can overthink it, you pick up your phone and dial your boyfriend’s number.

He answers on the second ring. “ _Privet_.”

“You’re not allowed to make me feel soft and vulnerable like this,” you whine, making sure he can hear your smile in your voice. “You can’t just turn me into a puddle of mush with your notes and compliments, Piotr. I have a reputation of being a badass to maintain.”

He chuckles. “My sincerest apologies, _moya lyubov’_ –thought something tells me you are not actually complaining.”

“Not in the slightest,” you confirm with a grin. “I just… I feel bad because I don’t have anything for you. Definitely not anything like a _scavenger hunt_.”

“No feeling bad,” he says quickly, albeit gently. “Today is as much for me as it is for you. Trust me, I have had much enjoyment planning all of this.”

“I don’t doubt it, but it doesn’t seem fair.”

“It will be. You will see.”

You sigh. “Well, alright. You’re the world’s greatest boyfriend, you know that?”

“I do not care much for being world’s greatest boyfriend, just yours.”

“Well, you are my world.”

You hear him let out a little breath over the phone, and you know you’ve managed to touch the soft parts of his heart with your words. “Thank you, _msyhka_. I… I can only hope I am worthy of it.”

“You are,” you say with utter conviction. “There couldn’t be anyone worthier.”

He lets out another little breath, and you can hear his smile in his voice when he speaks again. “Thank you, _myshka_. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

“You should eat breakfast. It is—”

“The most important meal of the day, I know,” you finish with a grin. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“And I love you, _dorogoy_.”

“I’ll see you at the end of the day.”

“ _Khorosho_.”

You hang up, then smile at your phone for a moment before setting it down so you can start in on your pancakes and consider the next hint for your scavenger hunt.

 _Hint: I could not hide anything from you_.

This one’s a little more cryptic than the last one. You furrow your brow as you munch away at your pancakes, trying to think of what Piotr might possibly hide from you.

The trouble is, of course, that Piotr’s never hidden anything from you. Everything about him and who he is stems from his trustworthiness and honesty; his teaching, his role as a mentor, his art, his identity—

A lightbulb goes off in your head and you grin like a maniac. _Of course_. You chuckle to yourself, satisfied, and set the card down so you can finish eating.

You know exactly where you need to go next.

* * *

As soon as you finish eating, you head to the library –and sure enough, there’s an envelope addressed to you waiting for you on one of the tables.

Actually, it’s on the same exact table Piotr had been sitting at when you saw him out of defense mode for the first time.

You have to take a moment to smile and appreciate his attention to detail before you rip the envelope open.

_Myshka,_

_At risk of sounding sappy, I think of moment we shared in here often. I had waited so long for you to know how I felt –and to know if you felt anything for me—that receiving any sort of confirmation… it was great relief, to say the least._

_I hope you know how much I cherish every day I have spent with you –those we have been together and those we have not—and how precious these past years have been to me._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You can’t help but smile at the card and take a moment to sit back in one of the chairs. _I’m gonna die from a sweetness overload today_ , you realize. _I’m gonna read one of Piotr’s notes and just keel over from how sweet and kind and thoughtful it all is_.

There’s no better way to go, in your opinion.

You take a deep breath, do your best to calm down, then pick up the card again so you can read the hint.

 _Hint: you may want to get dressed for the day_.

It says something about Piotr that he knows you well enough to know you’re still in your pajamas.

You chuckle to yourself and head back to your room.

* * *

Illyana’s waiting for you, sitting in Piotr’s desk chair when you walk in.

You blink, shocked. “What… how…” You stare at her, synapses short-circuiting as you try to figure out just _how_ she’s _here_ and _why_ she’s not in _Russia_. “…Hi.”

She smiles. “Hello.” She holds up a white envelope with your name on it. “I was told to give this to you.”

Which is automatically suspicious –not because you think she’s lying, but because Piotr isn’t the type to have other people do his work for him.

And if he has his _family_ here, that means he’s got something _big_ planned.

“Uh, yeah,” you finally say. You gesture with the other cards –you’ve stuck them back in their envelopes for the time being—that you’ve been carrying with you. “He’s been doing that today.”

“That he has.” She stands, hugs you briefly, then hands her envelope to you. “Happy Anniversary.”

You stare after her as she leaves, then close the door before opening the envelope.

_Myshka,_

_One of the things I appreciate most about you is your impish nature._

You stop reading and roll your eyes –while smirking, albeit—because _of course he’s bringing that up, of course_.

_Whether it is goading me into spending more “quality time” with you when lights have gone out, playing in corn mazes, coming up with fun ideas for all to participate in, embracing your inner child, or getting back at Wade, your zest for life and good times never cease to leave me amazed. You help me appreciate the moment instead of worrying about the future (even though it gets me into trouble some times). I will forever appreciate the lessons you have taught me about living life to fullest and appreciating those around you._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You’re misty-eyed; granted you wouldn’t call it “goading” or “getting into trouble,” but you’re genuinely touched by his reflection on your personality and what he appreciates about it –and has _learned_ from it, which is going to take some time for you to wrap your head around.

You press the card against your heart for a moment, silently appreciating your wonderful, sweet mush of a man, before holding it out again so you can look at the next hint.

 _Hint: Go to the place where it all became official_.

You frown. _What the hell does that mean?_

There’s a lot of places that have “official” meanings to them since you’ve gotten into a relationship with Piotr –hell, since you first came to the Institute.

 _Okay, think. This is your anniversary. It’s going to be a place where some sort of specific milestone happened_.

That, admittedly, does narrow down the field of options –but not by much.

You chew on your lower lip as you mentally wade through various possibilities. _Okay, this is Piotr we’re talking about. It’s going to be from his perspective. What goes into making something official, if you’re Piotr?_

Your brain immediately jumps to communication. Piotr’s a stickler for good communication; he likes making sure that everyone understands what’s going on, that everyone’s had a chance to give their say in a situation, to express their feelings, to agree or disagree…

_Okay, so understanding the situation, giving your say, expressing feelings, agreeing and disagreeing, in the context of our relationship “being official…”_

You almost gasp out loud when it hits you.

* * *

After you get dressed, you head out to the property behind the mansion.

Specifically, to the tree that you and Piotr had sat under, later on the same day that you’d seen him out of defense mode for the first time; it’s the spot where he’d confessed his feelings to you, and it’s the spot where you two agreed to be in a relationship.

 _Official_.

You step around the tree to where the bench still sits –and nearly fall flat on your ass when you see your uncle sitting there.

He grins up at you. “Hey, punk.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You wrap your arms around him as soon as he stands, then poke him in the ribs when he laughs. “Be nice! I had no idea you were coming! Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s cool,” he says as he lets you go. “Just thought I’d drop by for a quick visit.” He pulls a white envelope with your name on it out of his pocket and hands it to you. “Your guy asked me to give this to you.”

You narrow your eyes at the envelope, then squint up at your uncle. “What the hell is going on?”

“I’m giving you an envelope.”

“No shit. I meant –why? Why are you here? Are you …in on whatever’s going on?”

“Because that’s how it works.” He smirks and ruffles your hair. “Happy Anniversary, punk.”

You stare after him as he strides off towards the house, then sit down on the bench and open the envelope.

_Myshka,_

_I think this is one of my most favorite memories with you. Though I cherish every single memory I have with you, this is one I return to whenever I feel sad or lost. I am not sure if there is good explanation for why. I suppose, to me, knowing my feelings were reciprocated is what started this long and wonderful journey of sharing life with you._

_Or, perhaps, reason why I reminisce does not matter. I know I love you, and you love me. That is enough._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You can’t help but smile; the confession under this very tree is one of your favorite memories, too.

_Hint: Go back to our bedroom._

You frown. You’ve already been to the bedroom once; it seems weird that you’d backtrack your steps –but, then, you aren’t the one in charge of setting up this scavenger hunt.

You slide the card back into the envelope, jam it into your pocket with the others, and take off across the back lawn.

* * *

The changes are immediately noticeable as soon as you step over the threshold to yours and Piotr’s bedroom.

First, the bed is made; you’d forgotten to do it after you’d gotten dressed.

Second, your pajamas are in the clothes hamper, instead of on the floor.

 _Piotr’s been here,_ you realize. _He’s still at the house_.

Something about the thought of your boyfriend sneaking around the mansion to avoid being spotted by you and watching you follow his trail of clues makes you smile.

There’s an envelope with your name on it on top of your pillow.

It’s considerably larger than the other ones, almost stuffed to the point of being unable to close.

You open the envelope –which doesn’t take much effort, considering it’s about ready to pop on its own—and withdraw several sheets of paper.

_Myshka,_

_I like to think of our room as our little sanctuary. Sometimes, in a house full of other people, it is easy to feel that you have no privacy, or to feel overwhelmed by everyone else. However, when I step into our room, I feel at home_.

You feel the same way.

_We have shared so many memories in our room, yes? Your first Halloween (and you telling me you wanted to marry me), taking care of each other when ill, comforting each other from nightmares, even just moving into together; there are so many memories, it is hard to count them all._

_Sometimes, when I cannot sleep, I wind up watching you rest while I contemplate our life together until I can rest as well. I do think myself blessed for every moment I get to spend with you, but remembering such nights brings me a unique sense of peace and steadiness._

_Granted, not all memories we have here are… pleasant ones. I think it pointless to pretend that our relationship has not come with struggles; every relationship has difficulties, and while memories of fights we had do not bring me joy, I will confess I do not feel any particular shame about them (aside from what my own behavior and actions contributed, of course)._

_We have had to learn a lot about each other and how to work together –or how to work with each of our family’s… unique circumstances. I know I have –from learning about your uncle (and struggles leading up to that moment), to arguments about responsibilities, to learning to not let my fear control me as it relates to you, or even in moments when you worried nothing would change or you were caught in an internal spiral, I know for certain that my relationship with you would look entirely different if we had not faced those moments together._

_Is it wrong of me to say that I do not regret having to face those struggles (aside from what my own behavior contributed)? I would never say they were pleasant, but I know you so much better and deeper from having gone through them –to say nothing of myself; you have challenged me to be better person –whether it relates to myself, my family, you, or others—countless times that I honestly feel that I am better person for having gone through all of it. If had to chose between facing those hardships or never facing them at all… I would still choose to face them, even knowing consequences they bring._

_I am more grateful than words can say for knowing you and having known you. I would not be man I am today without you._

_All my love,_

_Piotr_

You’re crying –and you’re grateful that you opted to not put on makeup when you got dressed, because it all would’ve been ruined after reading that letter.

You can barely fathom that Piotr is _grateful_ for all the hell the two of you have gone through together; you know he’s not lying to you, that if he says he feels that way, he does, but…

It’s rare enough to find people who stick with you through the good times and the bad, but to find someone who appreciates the bad times and struggles because they were able to learn about you and themselves?

You dial Piotr’s number before you really even realize what you’re doing.

“ _Privet_.”

“You know you’re the single best human on the planet, right?”

He catches on quick to the fact that you’re crying. “ _Myshka_ , is everything alright? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just my heart’s in pieces after reading that letter,” you say with a laugh as you try to dry off your cheeks. “I just… I just wanted to let you know that I feel the same way. I wouldn’t trade the struggles we’ve had to go through, either. Some of it sucked, but… it’s worth it. And I feel like I know you a lot better for having gone through all of it, too.”

He goes quiet for a moment, then sucks in a shaky breath that tells you that he’s tearing up, too. “I love you very much, Y/N.”

You sniff and continue the –largely unsuccessful—process of trying to dry your face. “I love you too, Piotr.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to come see you?”

“I’m alright,” you reassure him, smiling. “I just wanted to let you know how I felt. And to say thank you for sticking with me through everything.”

“You do not need to thank me,” he says, “though I am equally grateful for your staying with me.”

“Quite the impasse, huh.”

He chuckles. “ _Da_. Very.”

You chuckle with him. “Alright, I’m gonna check the hint and figure out where I need to go next.”

“ _Khorosho_. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. I love you, Piotr.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hang up after saying good-bye, then reach over to your nightstand for some tissues. You blow your nose, dry your face, then scan the bottom of the last page for the hint.

_Hint: Go to the place where future finally started._

You sigh as you stare down at the line of text. _What the fuck? Okay, okay, think like Piotr. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Protein bars. Four or five moments. Language, please._

You snicker to yourself, amused, then buckle down on figuring out what the hint means.

The phrase “finally started” seems to imply some sort of beginning –maybe a milestone or goal of sorts—that couldn’t –or wouldn’t—get going for some sort of reason. So, a milestone or goal in your relationship that was a frustratingly long time coming… a _location_ attached to said milestone or goal…

You nearly smack yourself upside the head when it hits you. _Of course_.

* * *

Admittedly, you’re not as sure of your guess on this hint as you are the other ones –but this is Piotr you’re dealing with, the antithesis of “pulling a fast one” if ever there was one.

Which is how you find yourself quietly padding through the medical wing at the mansion, counting off the rooms there until you find the right spot –the room where you’d gotten your diagnosis after the whole ordeal of getting hit in the head with Mikhail’s energy burst and recovering the repressed memories.

It’s empty –which is fortunate in multiple senses—save for one very blue, very furry Doctor Hank McCoy.

He looks up at you and smiles when you knock on the doorframe. “Y/N.” He picks up a white envelope with your name on it and holds it out to you. “I’ve been told it’s yours and Colossus’s anniversary.”

“It is,” you say as you accept the envelope. You gesture with your other hand, which is holding all the other envelopes you’ve collected. “He’s been sending me on a scavenger hunt.”

“Well, good luck and happy anniversary.” He pauses at the door as he heads out. “One of the healers will let you know if we need this room.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

You sit on the edge of the bed –there’s not really anywhere else to sit—and rip the envelope open.

_Myshka,_

_It struck me that several points of our relationship have happened in medical wing. Between injuries from missions, other incidents, and aspects of your recovery, we have spent a great deal of time here._

_I will admit now that I hope we do not continue this trend in the future._

You snort.

_I know diagnosis was long time coming, and that we talked much about what it meant for our future, together and as individuals. However, I hope you know that my end-goal in our relationship has always been your –and, by proxy, our—well-being. I have always truly been happy to be your partner, whatever that looks like, regardless of whether you found diagnosis or not._

You smile softly and press your hand against your heart. _I’ve always known, baby._

_All that said, I am very happy you were able to find diagnosis –not just for what it means for our future, but for you as well. You are happier and more confident now that you are receiving best treatment, and I love you more every day as I watch you heal and grow into best version of yourself._

_I love you and all your versions. Always._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You have to wipe a few tears away from your eyes by the time you’re done reading the card. _He’s such a mush. My mush._

It’s borderline staggering to think about how far you’ve come over the past few years. You went from being a kid trapped in their room to being an adult woman in charge of her own life and future –one who kicks a lot of ass, at that. You have friends, a family, colleagues, a job, a partner…

You’ve come a long way; you’ve got a lot to be proud of.

You smile to yourself for a moment, then scan the bottom of the card for the next hint.

_Hint: go to gazebo._

You smirk. _Well, at least this one’s easier to figure out than the last one_.

* * *

There’s a little white gazebo towards the far reaches of Xavier’s property. It’s a popular spot for teenaged residents to hook up at –and also a spot that you and Piotr have shared a couple picnics at. You know he likes to draw there –there’s some good views of various trees and flowers from the benches in the gazebo—so it’s not surprising that he would’ve tacked it on the list of “places to have Y/N go on during scavenger hunt.”

What _is_ surprising, however, is that Mikhail’s sitting on one of the benches when you walk in.

He greets you with a slight smile and gestures with a white envelope. “I was told to wait here.”

“When did he tell you to wait here?” you ask with a short laugh.

“Earlier than necessary.” Mikhail hands off the card with a rueful chuckle. “I am supposed to say ‘happy anniversary’ also.”

“How many times did he remind you to say it?”

“Seven.”

You make a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Well, I mean, it worked. You didn’t forget.”

Mikhail grunts. “I think I will not forget for next fifty years.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugs. “Could be worse. Anyway, I leave you to it.” He gives you a little wave, then promptly teleports away.

You shake your head –you’re still not used to that—then sit on one of the benches and open the envelope.

_Myshka,_

_I know we have not shared many moments here, but there were two in particular that held enough significance that I felt need to include this spot on your little journey today._

You frown at the card for a minute until the “specific moments” he’s referring to hit you. _Shit_.

The aftermath of your nasty encounter with Dwight and the aftermath of the incident during the end of year school trip. Not exactly easy things to forget.

_I know they are not pleasant memories, but to me they are important because when I was at my lowest moment, you were there to keep me from falling. You helped me find my sense of self and resolution to whatever internal conflict I was feeling; there are no words to describe just how grateful I am for that._

_I think the reasons these memories stand out so strong to me is because I know you feel… you feel like do not bring your own merit to our relationship. That all I do is take care of you._

_I just want you to know that you help me as much as you say I help you. You have helped and supported me so much in these past years, even if you do not see it. I hope one day you can see yourself how I see you: strong, confident, beautiful woman, with heart whose size is only rivaled by her spirit._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You’re back to feeling overwhelmed and soft and so loved all over again.

You’ll never understand how you got so lucky; you’ve always felt so raw and feral around most of the X-Men, all sharp and rough edges and a little wild behind the eyes. Compared them, you’re a broken heap of junk, battered and fragile from years of abuse and mistreatment.

And then the sweetest, kindest, gentlest, most decent man that ever existed came along and saw a person worth loving instead of a junk heap.

You’re not entirely sure whether that makes you a person worth loving or a junk heap, at the end of all of it. Your self-esteem has improved by _miles_ since arriving at Xavier’s –more so since starting therapy—but there are still days where you can’t look yourself in the mirror for fear of what you might see.

But Piotr is honest, in words and actions. If he refuses to put faith in a person –or even consider putting faith in a person—then that person has to be the most despicable, unredeemable piece of shit to have ever walked the face of the earth.

And if he loves you…

You have to step back from that train of thought before you get too overwhelmed and focus instead on what the next hint says.

 _Hint: go to chair outside Alyssa’s office_.

You frown. It’s not hard to see why he would include a location in reference to your being in therapy; it’s been integral to your recovery –to say nothing of your relationship with Piotr—but he’s always so conscientious about keeping the boundaries between therapist and patient clear. You can’t imagine that he would ask Alyssa to hold onto an envelope for you…

Well, except the hint says the _chair outside her office_. Not Alyssa herself.

You get up off the bench with a grunt and head towards the house.

* * *

There’s no envelope propped in the chair when you reach the area where the handful of counselors’ offices are housed.

For a moment, you panic that someone’s taken it –but Piotr’s more careful than that. He would’ve considered that this area of the mansion is open to multiple residents, and that placing a random envelope on the chair would leave it liable to be taken or get lost.

You slide your hands between the frame of the chair and the cushion, then underneath the cushion itself.

Nothing.

You frown. _Where the hell is it? Did someone pick it up for me? Or throw it away?_

You’re half-tempted to call him and ask him where he put it, but the stubborn part of you wants to figure this out all by yourself.

_Okay, Y/N, think. If I were Piotr, and I was trying to leave a note where only one person would find it in an open space, where would I put it?_

There’s not an obvious answer. Piotr is the antithesis of being secretive; even when he’s trying to surprise you, it’s still pretty easy to get at what he’s doing most of the time.

 _Okay,_ you tell yourself. _His mom is in the mafia, formerly an assassin. Some of that has to have rubbed off on him –least of all knowing how to hide something_.

But that doesn’t yield any fruitful answers either. The inner workings of an assassin are ultimately a mystery to you –intriguing, but not something you can identify with.

You almost give up before it hits you. _I’m thinking about this the wrong way_.

Today is about your relationship with him. If Piotr’s hiding something for you to find, then he’ll have hidden it in a place he knows you’ll look.

_Okay. If I was going to hide a letter on a chair, where would I put it?_

That’s an easy answer: you’d tape it to the underside of the chair.

You crouch down on all fours and peer under the chair –and, sure enough, there’s a white envelope with your name on it taped to the underside of the seat.

You pry it free, then retreat down the hall from the counseling offices until you feel like you’re a respectable enough distance from the space to read the next note.

_Myshka,_

_I did not want to make it through today without mentioning your journey with therapy. I know it was scary for you at first, and watching you grow more comfortable with it and face down your problems leaves me so proud and inspired every day._

_I also appreciate when you bring the knowledge you learn from your sessions into our relationship. I enjoy learning from you, and being able to grow with you is greatest privilege._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You smile and sigh happily, feeling warm and loved from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You text Piotr a slew of heart emojis –and grin when he texts several back to you—before moving on to the next hint.

 _Hint: we got busted here_.

 _Why can’t they all be “go to this place?”_ you ponder as you puzzle over the cryptic line of text. _Why do I keep having to work for everything?_

Truly, life’s greatest mystery.

Well, fortunately, there’s some strict limits to what “busted” could be. Piotr’s pretty strict about following the rules, and since it says “we,” that means you both crossed some sort of line.

You flip through your mental rolodex of times you managed to convince Piotr to break some sort of rule. _What could it be?_

You outright guffaw when it hits you, then take off for the jet hangar.

* * *

It takes a couple tries –the X-Men have more than one jet, because apparently Charles has untold troves of wealth—but eventually you find an envelope addressed to you in one of the cockpit seats.

You smirk and take a moment to savor the memory –the _one_ time you’d managed to convince Piotr to fuck you on a flight back from a mission—before opening the envelope.

_Myshka,_

_I admit I still do not understand your desire to have sex in public spaces –though it does keep you quiet, so perhaps there is some benefit after all._

Your jaw drops. You have to reread the first line twice to be sure of what you’ve just read, then let out a shocked laugh as you dig your phone out of your pocket. “ _You little shit_ ,” you say when Piotr picks up. “I’m sitting in the X-Jet –Piotr, you’re such a little shit—”

He bursts out laughing on the other end of the line, evidently immensely pleased with himself. “I mean, I am not wrong.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re so fucking clever,” you continue, grinning broadly. “I am gonna get you back _so hard_. You have no idea. You’re in for it, buster.”

He chuckles. “Have you read rest of note yet?”

“ _No_. I was too shocked by your opening. I had to call you.”

“Evidently.”

You can practically hear the smug smile in his voice; you roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, _whatever_. Vengeance is coming, Piotr. I will find a way to get you back.”

“Of that, I am certain.” He chuckles again. “I love you, _myshka_.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“I do not doubt it.”

You say good-bye, then hang up and finish reading the note.

_Obviously, there is more to our relationship than intimacy –nor do I think intimacy as most important thing. However, I do appreciate intimacy I have with you. Aside from obvious payoffs, I appreciate the trust you place in me. I believe there is something inherently vulnerable in sex, and the fact that you are willing to share that vulnerability with me says I am doing something right, in my mind._

_Even if you want to be vulnerable in… strange places._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but it is sweet. You do feel touched. “Honestly, it’s not that weird, Piotr. _You’re_ the weird one.”

Whatever. He’s the weird one. Not you.

_Hint: We celebrated an anniversary and Valentine’s Day here, and planned our first date here._

You grin, then dart out of the jet and in the direction of Piotr’s art studio.

* * *

It’s not something you say often, but you love Piotr’s art studio. It’s quiet, it’s calm, and it’s so full of color and light and _life_ that it’s impossible to not love.

But it’s more than that. Anyone who knows Piotr would know that his art studio is almost a direct look inside his brain. The way he organizes his pencils by hardness, color family, and purpose in little jars on the bookshelf next to his easel. The way he keeps his paints similarly stored, but in a drawer so they don’t get overexposed to heat. The way he keeps a few miscellaneous pencils and pens in a jar directly next to his easel, always within reach if he needs to start a new project.

Attention to detail. Making sure the space is functional, both for him and for the needs of his equipment.

It’s how he keeps his favorite, final pieces hung on the walls in perfect rows, right next to the pictures his students have drawn for him. How his regular desk is veritably stained with different colors and nearly overflows with supplies –they’re all organized, it’s more of a quantity thing—because he uses an angled desk for all his serious drawing so he doesn’t strain his back or arm.

He’s meticulous, yes, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that he’s truly _passionate_ about his art.

It’s the fact that he has three wastebaskets for the room –one right next to his drawing desk, for pencil shavings or scrapped concepts, one next to the regular desk for random trash, and a larger one tucked in the corner for paint rags and drop cloths that need to be washed.

He’s practical –and a little anal at times, if you’re being honest.

You love him so much.

Ellie, Russell, and Yukio are all waiting for you in the art studio when you walk in. Ellie has a white envelope, Yukio has your purse, and Russell’s playing some sort of game on his phone for the two girls to watch while they wait for you.

Yukio beams as soon as you walk through the door. “Happy Anniversary!”

“Thanks.” You nod at your purse with a grin. “I take it I’m gonna be needing that?”

“Yup,” Russell confirms, popping the ‘p’ as he stows his phone away. “It’s already got everything you need.”

“Thanks, guys. I don’t suppose you know what’s going on at the end of the scavenger hunt?”

The three of them exchange a look, then all attempt to smother smiles with varying degrees of success –or lack thereof.

Ellie does the best job at it, unsurprisingly. She just stands and hands you the note. “Obviously.”

“Figured as much. I guess you’re not gonna tell me.”

“Nope.” She latches onto Yukio’s hand once her bubbly counterpart passes off your purse and heads out the door. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary,” Russell chimes in, closing the door behind him.

You huff out a little laugh and shake your head, then sit down in the armchair Piotr keeps in his studio before tearing the envelope open.

_Myshka,_

_This studio has seen many important memories; I think among my favorites are celebrating our anniversary here (the effort you went to still amazes me to this day), making costumes for your first Halloween, and planning our first date here._

_It is not something I ever mentioned, but I was deeply excited to take you on our first date. I had known by then that I loved you deeply, so much so that it was difficult to take things slow –not that it was any hardship to me. I knew even before we got together that you would need time to heal and come into your own, and every single minute it has taken has been worth it to know you are happier and healthier._

_What I mean to say is that I knew from beginning that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I knew from that date that there would never be anyone who compared to you or made me feel the way you did. Every single day with you is precious to me, more than you could ever know._

_Happy Anniversary, my love. May we have many more._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You sigh deeply and smile at the note, then dig your phone out of your pocket.

**You: Every day with you is precious to me, too. I hope we have many more anniversaries in the years to come.**

_Babe: <3_

You pocket your phone again, then flop back in the chair.

You wish that he would spend the day with you. This is _your_ anniversary after all, and it only seems fitting that any activities or celebrations should include the _two_ of you.

But he did say that he’d see you at the end of the day. And you know he’s still at the mansion –or that he’s been popping out for stuff and coming back.

You check your purse on a whim.

Your sunglasses are tucked inside, as is your wallet, chapstick, a little pack of tissues… and your car keys.

You check the bottom of the card for the next hint.

 _Hint: go to car_.

You’re leaving the house, then, which implies that he needs you out and very distracted for a while; he’s definitely planning something big.

 _He brought his family and my uncle in,_ you think, chewing on your lower lip. _He’s getting me out of the house. It’s our anniversary. Is he…_

You tamp down the hope brewing in your chest before it can manifest into a full thought. You don’t want to start obsessing over anything, especially if it turns out your guessed wrong.

_But it could…_

You tuck the thought away before it can go anywhere, instead focusing on tucking all the envelopes into your purse. You extract your car keys and sunglasses –in hindsight, you should’ve done that _before_ you put the envelopes in there—then head out to the garage.

* * *

Sure enough, there’s an envelope waiting for you in the driver’s seat of your car –you almost sit on it by accident, but that’s neither here nor there.

_Myshka,_

_I know we have not had many opportunities to travel together, but you are my favorite co-pilot._

_Unless you drink Red Bull._

_You really should not drink Red Bull. It is not healthy. It does not even taste good._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

_Hint: Last stop on our first date._

Well, that’s plenty easy to figure out.

You make to the put the card and envelope in the purse with the others, but stop when you notice a tiny note on the other side of the envelope.

_First date, car._

You blink. _What the… oh_.

It’s a reminder, a little note to help him remember what the hint was about and where the card needed to be placed.

It’s definitely very Piotr, because you would’ve forgotten to do anything like that if you’d been in charge of all this.

You snort and shake your head, then stick your key in the car’s ignition. _Alright, I’ll need to fuel up—_

Except your gas tank is already full –and your oil’s been changed, which you’ve been meaning to do for… well, you’ve been meaning to do it.

**You: Did you fill up my tank?**

**You: And change my oil?**

_Babe: Oil light was on for seven months. It needed to be done_.

You grin; he’s just the sweetest.

**You: <3 Aw thanks**

_Babe: Of course. <3_

**You: Wait did I really forget for that long?**

_Babe: Yes._

You wince. You could’ve sworn the oil light only came on… maybe a few weeks ago?

**You: Shit.**

You consider leaving it there, but you can’t resist the opportunity to rib him a little bit.

**You: Also, vegetables don’t taste good either.**

**You: Just saying.**

You grin when he sends back a laughing-face emoji, then put your phone back in your purse and drive out of the garage.

* * *

The little spot –technically it’s just the historical part of a larger city, renovated and restored to be a tourist spot—that Piotr took you to for your first date has been a frequent fixture of your dates since then. It’s quiet, it’s beautiful, and there’s plenty do to there regardless of the time of year.

You stroll through the park that leads into the area with all the shops, admiring the greening trees and scads of flowers. It’s still the bare beginning of summer, meaning that everything’s still growing and coming back to life –and that it isn’t unbearably hot, which is always a win.

You do make a beeline towards the chocolate shop Piotr had taken you to at the end of your first date once you reach the street, though. It’s almost noon, you’re hungry, and chocolate strawberries sound like the perfect pick-me-up. You’re a woman on a mission, and nothing is going to stop you—

Except Neena is waiting for you outside the shop, eating chocolate covered cherries out of a paper bag and looking cooler than everyone else in a two-mile radius.

Which, admittedly, is worth at least pausing for.

She grins when you walk up to her and pulls you into a hug. “Hey! Happy Anniversary!”

“Thank you! And hey yourself!” You raise an eyebrow at her when you step back. “I’m guessing you have an envelope for me?”

“Yup!” She pulls an envelope out of her purse and hands it to you. “Have you been enjoying the scavenger hunt so far?”

“I have!” You smile softly as you run your fingers along the top edge of the envelope. “It’s kind of like taking a walk down our relationship’s memory lane.”

“That’s awesome.” She pops another chocolate covered cherry into her mouth, then straightens up and stretches. “Well, I need to get on the road. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Alright.” You exchange hugs once more, then watch her go, replaying her words over in your head.

_“I’ll see you later, okay?”_

Which seems to imply that Neena might be around at the end of the scavenger hunt, whatever that is. And that, combined with the fact that your uncle and his family is here…

Your stomach growls, jolting you from your reverie. _Right. Food. Specifically chocolate covered strawberries_.

Piotr texts you after you’ve made your purchase and are on your way out of the shop.

_Babe: Do not just eat chocolate for meal._

You snort –but you can’t pretend to be offended, considering that had been your whole plan.

**You: Fine.**

**You: But only for you.**

_Babe: <3_

You swing by the sandwich shop that he’d taken you to for your first date; you get a sandwich and a drink to go, then walk back through the park.

And then you see the bench the two of you had sat on after stopping at the chocolate shop, and –well—it just seems too perfect.

You send a picture of your sandwich to Piotr.

**You: Proof that I got real food.**

**You: Also I’m sitting on the bench we sat on at the end of our first date. :)**

**You: I just wish you were here with me.**

_Babe: I am very happy you have real food._

_Babe: I wish I was with you also._

_Babe: We will see each other later. I promise_.

You tuck your phone back in your purse, then tuck into your sandwich.

It’s a little weird being out of the house without Piotr –or someone else, at least. Given your track record for getting kidnapped –not that it was your prerogative to get kidnapped—or into general trouble, you rarely leave Xavier’s; if you do, it’s always with someone, if only to make sure you aren’t being stalked or aren’t in danger.

But this is an area Piotr knows well; it’s as safe a place for you to be as anywhere else, all things considered.

That, and he probably figured you would’ve been pissed off if he’d assigned you a babysitter for the day.

Which, admittedly, you would’ve been.

Besides, there isn’t even a modicum of suspicious activity in the park today. Kids are playing on the playground, parents are watching from nearby, the odd jogger or dog walker are strolling along the walking paths. It’s completely normal.

You’re also sitting at a highly visible point that isn’t easy to sneak up on, and have the ferocity of the average badger. _That, and I can just stomp anyone who tries to mess with me. No way in hell I’m getting kidnapped on my anniversary. No way, no how, no doing_.

You take a deep breath and focus on your environment for a moment to bring yourself back to the present. You’re safe, and you’ve done everything you need to do to stay safe. No need to obsess on it to the point of freaking yourself out.

You tie into the strawberries once you finish your sandwich –Piotr’s habit of “saving treats for later” still hasn’t rubbed off on you—then wipe your hands on a napkin when you’re all said and done before opening the envelope.

_Myshka,_

_It goes without saying, but I truly enjoy our date time. Whether we are going out to for day or staying in to watch movies, any time I can spend with you is wonderful._

_I truly value your companionship. You make my days brighter, regardless of what happens. I am looking forward to spending many bright days with you in years to come._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You smile down at the card –despite the fact that the passersby probably think you look a little nuts—and sigh happily.

You love him. You love him so much it hurts.

_Hint: You were impressed when I took you here for dinner._

You chuckle to yourself and toss your lunch trash in a nearby trashcan before heading to your car. _Yes, darling, I was very impressed._

* * *

The drive out to Grant’s restaurant takes a decent chunk of time; it’s mid-afternoon by the time you arrive, and you haven’t managed to figure out who you’re supposed to meet between leaving the place where you’d gone on your first ever date and arriving at the restaurant.

You know Grant is an old friend of Piotr’s, and it makes sense that he might want his friend involved in today in some way, shape, or form; you, however, don’t know Grant all that well. Everyone that you’ve gotten envelopes from today have been people you’ve known for a long time or Piotr’s direct family.

That, and you can’t see Piotr asking Grant to help while the restaurant was open. Your boyfriend’s courteous to a fault at times, and you know he wouldn’t want to throw a wrench into Grant’s workday –especially if something went wrong or you got caught in traffic.

You suppose it might be possible that Piotr would leave the envelope with a hostess, but that seems to contradict the whole “using people we both know” things—

And then Nikolai and Alexandra get out of their car the same time you get out of yours, which completely answers any questions about what the fuck you’re supposed to be doing right now.

“Hi!” You exchange hugs with Alex, then Nikolai. “I didn’t realize you two were in town as well!”

“Surprise visit,” Nikolai says with a smile. “We were told to keep secret.”

You raise an eyebrow; that only confirms that your boyfriend is _up to something_ , and that he’s got some sort of surprise waiting for you when you finally head back home, whenever that is. “Do you two know what’s going on?”

“Of course,” Alex says with a grin. “ _Medvezhonok_ sent us here for lunch date.”

You can’t help but smile. _Sweet and thoughtful in everything he does._

“Oh.” She withdraws an envelope from her purse. “And to give you this.”

“Yeah.” You open your own purse and show off your growing collection. “I’ve been getting several of those today. Am I close to the end of the hunt?”

Alexandra smirks and shrugs, while Nikolai makes a bigger show of not knowing the answer.

“Alright. I get it. That’s for you to know and for me to find out.”

Alexandra chuckles. “Basically.”

“Well, I hope you have a good lunch date. The food here is amazing –oh, and Piotr did the artwork here for his friend. You’ll be able to see it in the dining room.”

Both of the Rasputin parents express their delight over the new knowledge before exchanging hugs and goodbyes with you and heading inside.

You opt to head back to your car and open the envelope as you plop down into the driver’s seat.

_Myshka,_

_I admit that it took me time to adjust to your not liking being spoiled –at least, not with overly grand gestures. Perhaps I am dated, but I do believe that it is man’s duty to spoil woman he loves. Which, of course, is not to say that women cannot spoil their partners, or that gestures of affection should not be mutual effort. However, after watching my father love and take care of my mother growing up, I knew that his behavior –generosity, romantic, unabashed kindness—was something I wanted to emulate; I like to think it has not led me wrong._

_And though I am sensible –as you so often call me—I do like charm and romance of grand gestures. I enjoy planning and anticipation that goes into such things. I enjoy watching your face light up when you realize what I’ve done. I am happy to tailor my ideas to your comfort and preferences, but I do appreciate when you let me “pull out all stops,” as it were._

_At any rate, I hope you will not spend today worrying over whether you have done enough for me. My pleasure today truly comes from watching you be happy… and possibly later, if I know you as well as I think I do._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You snort and pull your phone out of your purse.

**You: You’re definitely right about later. ;)**

_Piotr: I will keep that in mind. ;)_

You chuckle and shake your head as you put your phone away, then sit back in the driver’s seat to think for a minute.

He’s right that you’re not one for grand gestures. There’s something about over-the-top dates or lavish gesture that just… make you feel like collapsing in on yourself until you disappear from view.

Well, that’s not completely right. You don’t mind doting on Piotr. It’s being _doted on_ that makes you feel uneasy.

If you were to guess, you would say that a lifetime of feeling like you weren’t worth anything and always feeling subpar in the eyes of everyone probably damaged your self-esteem to the point where any sort of gesture –romantic or otherwise—made you feel uneasy and unworthy, and that the grander the gesture, the more you feel convinced that the person doing it will realize that you’re not worth it and abandon you, and… ah, shit.

You take a deep breath and make a note on your phone to talk to Alyssa about it in your session, then do some meditation to calm yourself down. Existential revelations can wait, dammit; today is your day to be happy.

You open your eyes once you’re feeling calm and positive again, then check the card for the next hint.

 _Hint: Not best day we had, but I still appreciated my time with you here_.

You frown and start racking your brain. _Does he mean personal? Did we go on a date that ended badly?_

That’s what makes the most sense, considering that the scavenger hunt clues have all tied into your relationship or locations that feature heavily in your relationship –but you and Piotr haven’t really had any bad dates. The only one that stands out is…

Is the movie date where you were both kidnapped and taken to Dwight’s lair.

It’s possible, but something doesn’t feel right about it. You know that event was deeply, _deeply_ scarring for Piotr. You seriously doubt that he’d take you back to the theatre where you were both taken; that, and the card said “day,” which implies that the bad event was limited to a single day. The two of you had been in Dwight’s clutches longer than that, which would further rule it out.

You spend several minutes racking for your brain, but the movie-date-turned-kidnapping is the only bad date you can think of. You can’t even remember a date where the two of you had a fight or an argument; you tend to keep things contained to the mansion, specifically your shared bedroom so you don’t upset any of the other residents. Any time the two of you get to spend alone together is sacrosanct, and you’re both careful to keep it that way.

When you don’t come up with something after a few more minutes of fruitless pondering, you give in and call Piotr.

“ _Privet_.”

“Babe, I can’t figure out the most recent clue. I’m trying to think of any bad dates we’ve had, but all I can think of is the movie date where we got kidnapped by Dwight’s goons?” you explain. “Am I forgetting another really bad date we went on, or is that what you meant?”

“ _Nyet, nyet, nyet_ ,” Piotr exclaims quickly –which was the response you expected. “Absolutely not. No, I meant beach. Where we took kids, and residents disliked my being Russian.”

“Oh! Duh.” You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

“I think it was hint. I worded it poorly. I was considering making it ‘you dropped me in water here,’ but I was not sure if you knew what I meant…”

“No, I would’ve guessed that right away,” you say when his voice trails off, grinning impishly. “I can remember all the times I punked you, big guy.”

“Impressive, considering you do it so often.”

You cackle. “Hey! I’m not that bad!

“ _Konechno net_. You are model resident.”

“Exactly. I never break the rules.”

“…”

“I don’t hear you agreeing, baby.”

“Lying is unethical, _myshka_.”

You laugh along with him. “Very funny.”

“I try.”

“And you succeed.” You stretch your back, then jam the envelope and card in your purse along with the others. “Alright, I’m gonna get going. I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

You hang up, then start your car and pull out of the parking lot outside Grant’s restaurant.

You’ve got a lot of driving ahead of you.

* * *

You reach the beach a couple hours later –you have to stop and refuel along the way, which adds a little time to your trip.

You inhale deeply as you step out of the car. The smell of salt in the air is strong, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is deeply soothing.

You take a minute to lean against the hood of your car, enjoying the breeze and the scenery. So far, everyone you’ve need to meet up with has found you or been in plain sight. You can afford to take a minute to relax and stretch your legs.

And sure, enough, you don’t have to wait long to figure out who you need to talk to next. Before you can start to wonder if you should get up and look around, you spot Wade and Nate strolling along the beach, hand in hand.

You grin, hop of the hood of your car, and traipse across the sand so you can greet them. “Hey, guys!”

Wade pulls you into a massive hug. “‘Hey’ yourself, crackerjack!”

Nate hugs you from the side once Wade sets you down. “How’re you doing, kid?”

“Really good. It’s been a fun day.”

Wade waggles his nonexistent eyebrows at you. “And it’ll be more fun once you and Metallica are finally alone together.”

“Yeah, well, that’s for me and me alone to know, dorkus.”

“Gasp!” Wade presses his hand against his chest, feigning offense. “See if I give you the next step in your scavenger hunt now!”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “You do realize I could just take it from you, right? I’ve won nearly every fight we’ve ever gotten in.”

“Prepare to get your ass kicked, little sis.” He pulls a white envelope out of his hoodie pocket and holds it above your head. “Boom! Whatcha gonna do now!”

You give him a flat look, then hover up until you’re at eye level with his hand and pluck the envelope from his fingers.

“Dammit! Forgot about that!”

Nathan just chuckles. “It was a good try, handsome.”

“Define ‘good,’” you tease as you drop lightly onto the sand.

“Fine! See if I share my Gushers with you from now on!”

“I take everything back.”

Nathan shakes his head and smirks. “You’re both insane.”

“And?” You and Wade ask simultaneously.

“ _You’re_ dating me,” Wade adds. “And _you_ basically adopted her.”

“Pretty sure that makes you the crazy one,” you agree with a nod.

“Whatever.” Nate latches onto Wade’s hand and squeezes gently. “We ought to head out.”

“Yup,” Wade concurs, popping the ‘p.’ “We’ll let you read your little love note in private; we’ll see you back at the mansion.”

“See you there.” You make your good-byes, then watch them walk towards the parking lot next to the beach, contemplating where to read your latest note at.

You could always sit in your car again, like you did at Grant’s restaurant, but… it is a _really_ gorgeous day out…

You spy a picnic bench a few yards away and decide to sit there so you can better enjoy the sun, sand, and surf. Once you’re comfortably seated, you open the envelope and start reading the card inside.

_Myshka,_

_During years I have known you, I have come to appreciate you in many ways –especially your ferocious love for those you care deeply for._

_Perhaps it is because I am more passive, but your tenacity and protectiveness astounds me. I so often worry over offending others or taking wrong steps in confrontation that I forgo it altogether –which, as you have seen, does not always result well. You are so unbelievably brave and bold, and I admire you so much for it._

_I hope that, as we go through life together, I can learn from you how to be braver and bolder myself._

_Love,_

_Piotr_

You can’t help but smile –part soft and part shocked—and lower the card so you can process everything you’re feeling.

It’s difficult to wrap your head around, to say the least. You’ve never felt particularly brave –bold, yes, but that doesn’t always put things in your favor. At any rate, there’s a lot that still scares you. You still have regular nightmares about your childhood, and while your anxiety is better, it’s still a daily struggle you have to work through. “Brave” is far from the first word you would use to describe yourself.

But, then, you’d probably default to words like “dumbass,” or “dork,” so maybe your opinion isn’t the end all, be all in this situation.

And, just maybe, there’s some truth in that. The perception and opinion of self is important, sure, but maybe there are times where you aren’t the best authority on your defining features. After all, how long have you called yourself “worthless,” and yet Piotr can see so many amazing qualities in you?

Piotr, whose honesty is one of his most defining qualities. Piotr, who invests in everyone around him and works to help them find the best in themselves. Piotr, who loves you and adores you despite your flaws.

Maybe… maybe you’re not as bad or “worthless” or “monstrous” as you think you are –as you’ve been told you are.

You sigh as you reflect on how far you’ve come and how hard you’ve worked to improve. _I don’t know about brave… but I’ve made it through a lot._ You smile to yourself. _I guess I’m pretty tough, at least_.

Tough’s good. Tough means endurance, and you’ve definitely got that in spades.

You let out a quiet, giddy laugh, then lift the card so you can read the hint.

_Hint: Come back home._

Excitement sparks in your gut, and you tap out a quick message to Piotr letting him know you’re coming home before springing up and running to your car (well, as much as you can run on sand).

It’s time to see what your darling boyfriend’s been up to.

* * *

It’s mid-evening when you pull into the gravel drive outside the mansion –and you’re immediately greeted by all the students, Ellie, Russell, and Yukio included.

You park your car a couple yards away from them. “Hey, guys,” you say as you step out. “What’s going on?”

“Mr. Colossus said to take you to the back yard,” Timothy says, grinning excitedly.

“You have to close your eyes though,” Kitty adds, lips stretched into a similarly enthralled grin.

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And you all are gonna help me get to the back?” You chuckle when you get a chorus of “yeahs,” then close your eyes and hold out your hands. “Okay. Just don’t run me into anything.”

Several little hands latch onto your arms, and then you’re being half-guided, half-led away from the driveway and –presumably—towards the back of the Institute. Most of the kids are shorter than you and don’t understand anything about “walking calmly,” so it’s a little jerky and stuttered, but eventually you come to a stop.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you ask.

“Yup,” Ellie says. “Go ahead.”

You open your eyes –and immediately gasp out loud. “Oh my gosh!”

The backyard directly behind the house has been completely transformed –you almost don’t recognize it.

There are tables draped with soft white tablecloths, lined with white folding chairs –the nice kind that you’ve seen at expensive, catered events—and decorated with vases of small, pink flowers off to the side.

Twinkling fairy lights are strung _everywhere_ ; someone –several people, actually, there’s no way one person could’ve done all this—has put up delicate metal trellises and draped the lights over them, thus casting the space in a soft, almost aethereal glow.

Everyone’s here, too. The students, the teachers and staff, your uncle and found family, Piotr’s family, the other residents. There’ll all standing or sitting at the edges of the lit space, smiling at you as you take in all the changes.

And, at the other end of the space –a little further back so it doesn’t pick up glare from the fairy lights—is a projection screen.

“Here.” Ellie takes you by the elbow and moves you so you can see the screen better. “Stand here.”

“What on Earth is going on?” you ask, whipping your head around as a few people chuckle. “Where’s Piotr?”

Ellie just nods at the screen. “Watch.”

You turn your head back to the screen as it lights up. Soft guitar music players from speakers set up _somewhere_ , not that you can find them—

And then a picture of you and Piotr flits onto the screen –specifically, one of the two you dressed as Persephone and Hades for Halloween.

Your face splits into a giant grin.

A slide show starts, slowly flipping from picture to picture, charting the course of your relationship.

There’s one from the first time you’d ever carved pumpkins; someone had managed to get a shot of Piotr watching you with an adorable, lovestruck expression on his face.

Another from your first Christmas season away from home –it’s of the two of you making snowmen together.

You grin when one of the pictures Wade had taken of the two of you kissing under mistletoe pops up; it’s still one of your favorite pictures of all time.

There’s a selfie Piotr had taken of the two of you early in the morning where you’re kissing his cheek –and one at the end of your first stay with him at his art retreat house where you can see a hickey peeking over the collar of your shirt, and _oops that’s kind of scandalous_.

The slideshow is as much of a walk down memory lane as the scavenger hunt; each picture brings crystal clear, golden-hued memories to your mind’s eye, dragging you further and further into a sea of lovestruck nostalgia.

You’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

The slideshow also shows the extent of Piotr’s picture taking prerogative –obsession, whatever. There’s _at least_ a hundred pictures, from the incredibly mundane –the two of you in your pajama, eating bowls of cereal—to the more elaborate –a more staged ‘end of the year’ picture that you’d both dressed up and posed for.

You cackle with everyone else when the picture Wade had taken of the two of you “doing” Seven Minutes in Heaven shows on the screen. _Oh, no way in hell Piotr put that in there. Holy shit._

The slideshow ends with the last picture Aiden had taken of you and Piotr kissing –the one where he’d been completely armored down and had cupped your face with his hands.

You smile happily as you wipe away a few tears from the corners of your eyes. You’re beyond speechless, even as the screen goes dark; you can’t remember the last time anyone did anything this nice or elaborate for you, even for something as important as an anniversary.

A large hand settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “ _Privet, myshka_.”

You whirl around and immediately pull your boyfriend down into a passionate kiss.

His hand comes up the back of your head, while his arm wraps around your back –he’s got something in his other hand, not that you can be bothered to care right now—effectively holding you to him.

You can’t remember the last time a kiss has felt this good –which isn’t to say that all the other kisses you’ve had with him have been bad. But between the anticipation of wanting to see him all day, the excitement of not knowing what’s going on, and the emotional journey of the scavenger hunt and the slideshow… you’re in a state, to say the least.

Piotr, fortunately, picks up on your extra emotional –and hormonal—state and breaks the kiss before you can start wholesale undressing him in front of everyone. He strokes the swell of your cheeks with his thumb, smiling broadly, then pulls his arm away from your back. “These are for you.”

You gasp at the sight of the _massive_ –and it really is, _holy shit how much did he spend on these_ —bouquet of roses he’s holding out to you. You have to sling your purse strap over your shoulder so you can hold all of them properly. “Piotr –what—”

“Happy Anniversary, _moya lyubov’_.” He helps you get the flowers settled in the crook of your right arm, then kisses your temple gently. “Have you had good day?”

“ _Yes_. Oh my goodness, it’s been amazing. How did you do all of this?”

“Much planning.” He smiles, clearly pleased with himself and the situation. “Did you enjoy scavenger hunt?”

“I _loved_ it, Piotr. It –this is all so amazing. I don’t deserve all of this –I don’t even have a present for you—”

He shushes you gently, wiping a stray tear off your cheek. “ _Tische_ , _myshka_. I told you today was about you. That I would get my joy later.”

“Okay, but—” Your brain starts processing again, and you finally realize that he’s dressed up in a suit.

A _nice_ suit. Crisp, perfectly tailored (which isn’t easy, considering that he is Large), and black, with a white button-down shirt and a blue and purple tie that makes his eyes pop.

You sputter –your brain’s working, but your mouth isn’t, evidently. “W -why are you wearing—” you gesture haphazardly at him with your free hand “—why are you wearing a suit? Why does the backyard look like this? What’s even going on?”

He grins, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Happy Anniversary, _myshka_.”

And then he pulls a black velvet box out of an inner jacket pocket and gets down on one knee.

You gasp and clap your free hand over your mouth.

“Y/N L/N,” Piotr says, voice shaking a little but undeniably overjoyed and excited. “I have waited for so long to have opportunity to do this –and it has been worth every single minute. You are beautiful, intelligent, funny, kind, and you own my whole heart. I knew from moment that I told you I loved you that I wanted to spend my life with you. I knew that this journey would be difficult, and we might never reach this point—” he stops to take a breath and lets out an excited giggle “—but here we are. I love you. Will you please be my wife?”

You’re crying. You never thought you’d cry when Piotr proposed –several years ago you never even thought you’d be getting proposed to—but you’re definitely crying now.

You love him. You love him so much. He’s the universe’s gift to you, a reparation for everything you’ve had to suffer through to get to this point.

There couldn’t have possibly been a better gift, which is why there’s only one possible answer to his question.

“Yes,” you eke out amidst a steady trickle of tears and nervous-energy laughter. “Yes!”

Piotr’s eyes light up while everyone else cheers. He stands, pulling you into a hug and kissing you like you’ve given him the most precious thing in the world.

Which, you suppose makes sense, considering he’s just done the same for you.

He breaks the kiss again –though it takes him longer than before, which you count as a win—then delicately plucks the ring out of the box and slides it down your left ring finger, and—

It’s gorgeous. A sparkling solitaire diamond on a gold band. Big enough to look nice, but not so big that you won’t be able to get your flight gloves over it. It’s clear he put a lot of thought in making sure it would integrate well into your life _and_ mesh with your tastes.

You kiss him again. And again. And again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This is your forever.

* * *

There’s a party afterwards with everyone at the mansion –catered by Grant, no less.

“My second-in-command’s got it,” he says when you ask him about his restaurant. “We do catering gigs all the time, we’ve got it figured out. Besides—” he nudges Piotr in the side “—I couldn’t say no to this one.”

Aiden and his team are present as well; apparently, they were taking pictures of you during the slideshow, then of you and Piotr during the actual proposal. Not that you noticed –though you did have a good reason to be distracted, in your defense.

They keep taking pictures throughout the evening –between rounds of helping themselves to the food at Piotr’s instruction, since “it is dinnertime; not good to skip meals.”

You get hugs and-slash-or congratulations from everyone –including Scott, which is proof positive that he can, in fact, act like a decent fucking human being every now and then.

Wade hugs you so hard that your ribs hurt. “Oh my Francis! This is even better than three mini-lion robots coming together to former a super lion robot.”

You laugh as he sets you back down. “Damn. That’s a pretty high standard to meet.”

Nate’s far more gentle. “Congratulations, kid. You two are great together.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.” You raise an eyebrow about him. “How long did you know about this for?”

Nathan smiles and shrugs. “A while. He asked for my permission, so I had a pretty decent head’s up.”

Something warm and tender settles in your chest, and you have to clear your throat a couple times before you speak again. “Does that mean you’re walking me down the aisle?”

His smile softens further and he nods. “I’d be honored.”

Piotr’s family is similarly excited. They flock around the two of you, overjoyed and more than a bit emotional—

Well, three out of four of them are overjoyed and more than a bit emotional. Mikhail’s default setting in any emotional setting seems to be “snark.”

Then again, Mikhail’s default setting _in general_ seems to be “snark.”

“Well, that was disgustingly wholesome,” he says with a smirk –which earns him a pinch in the side from Illyana (which is definitely a punishment, considering how strong her hands are from playing violin).

You can already tell that the comment’s ruffling Piotr’s feathers in the absolute wrong way, but you can also see where Mikhail was trying to be funny and fell flat.

You decide to respond with humor before your boyfriend –no, he’s your _fiancé_ now—gets too prickly. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back to the regularly scheduled debauchery as of nine tomorrow morning.”

Mikhail laughs, then seems to finally notice Piotr’s icy expression –or, more likely, Illyana gave him a psychic tip off that he _done hecked up_ —and switches course immediately. He clasps his younger brother’s shoulder –and actually has to reach up to do so, which is a little amusing to you—and gives Piotr a genuine smile. “I am proud of you. Happy for you. You picked good one.”

 _That_ seems to soothe Piotr, at least a little. He smiles down at you and squeezes your hand in his. “Best one there is.”

Your uncle comes up last, once the crowd has thinned a little –though it’s worth noting that Aiden an his team don’t try to get any pictures with him in it (when you ask Piotr later, he explains that he forewarned Aiden that your uncle didn’t like having his picture taken and made sure that Aiden and his coworkers would be able to work with that).

His eyes are noticeably misty –heck, yours are too—when he pulls you in for a hug. “Proud of you, punk. So fucking proud.”

“I’m proud of you, too,” you say as you hold him tight. “We’ve both come a long way, huh?”

“Yeah,” he concedes, swiping at his eyes once he lets you go. “We have.”

Eventually, the party comes to an end. Grant and his team pack up their equipment, Aiden’s and his coworkers put away their cameras, and the youngest students are sent to bed while the other residents head off to do their own things.

As for you and Piotr, the two of you head off to your shared room for some well-deserved one-on-one time. You wind up snuggling in bed –though, admittedly, that’s not the first thing the two of you do.

Because neither of you had been kidding about finding pleasure at the end of the night.

You admire your ring and the way it sits on your finger for the umpteenth time as Piotr traces gentle, slow circles up and down your bare back. You wiggle your fingers back and forth, then giggle, giddy and overjoyed.

Piotr’s lips press against your forehead. “Happy?”

“Very.” You tilt your head back to kiss him properly, passionately. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

You wriggle a little in his arms so you can see his face better. “How long did you plan all this for? And how did you keep me from finding out?”

“I knew how I wanted to propose… since our first anniversary,” he says after a moment of thought. “I did not start making cards until your diagnosis, though. I did not want to run risk of you finding them and panicking that I would leave you if we could never get married.”

You smooth your hand over his shoulder. “Yeah, there was probably some prudence there.”

“As for keeping everything secret, I just kept it all in my art studio,” he explains with a smile. “I figured you would not look there.”

“Yeah, well, you were right. Not that I would’ve gone snooping through your stuff, but yeah. I would’ve never looked there.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Did you like everything today? I was worried it would be too taxing or obnoxious—”

“It was _perfect_ ,” you reassure him, and his responding smile makes you feel warm and fuzzy all over. “I loved it. I just feel bad that I didn’t have anything for you. Honestly… I kinda forgot that today was our anniversary until I read the first card this morning.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No worries. I enjoyed today immensely.” He smirks, then kneads the flesh of your hip with his hand. “Besides, I knew I would get mine later.”

“Well, _yeah_.” You sling your arms around his neck and smile excitedly. “We’re gonna get married.”

His responding smile is equally excited. “ _Da_. I know.”

You kiss him and let out a happy sigh. “I love you.”

His arms wind around you. “And I love you.”

“Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.”

He kisses your cheek sweetly. “Happy Anniversary, _myshka_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Validate my parking, pls. I need it. I want it. I deserve it.
> 
> <3


End file.
